


A Series of Wagers

by Hibibun



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Behavior, M/M, Mind Games, Past Jonah Magnus/Barnabas Bennett - Freeform, Time Skips, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25216486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hibibun/pseuds/Hibibun
Summary: "An interesting gamble for one who consorts with The One Alone… up to something are we?”"Wouldn't you like to know?" He throws back, face contorting into a facsimile smile that rings hollow despite the amusement that has to be there ghosting his lips.Peter was right though. He did want to know. He always did. And if it weren’t for the mirage now obscuring that information from him, it wouldn’t be necessary at all. Frankly, it was interesting enough on its own that he was finding himself getting the attention now when this was hardly the first time they had met. It’s been a good night overall though, and he isn’t complaining about the game. There’s something surprisingly lively in the pale sea weathered man across the table he hasn’t seen from any of his family in a long time."And if I win?" Elias asks, even though he is already picking his cards from the deck.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas, Peter Lukas/Jonah Magnus
Comments: 14
Kudos: 58





	1. 1996-2000

**Author's Note:**

> beginning disclaimers: i have been frantically trying to work out a proper timeline for many of these events and squeezed what implications of dates i could. some potentially aren't as feasible as i initially thought, but the timeline is as compliant to the best of my abilities. just try not to question it too much or feel free to point out an inconsistency if it is jarring enough that i should have known it.
> 
> that being said it has been a Long Time since i have undertaken a big project like this, but i have been possessed by super divorce fever and apparently spilled this many words just to describe the complicated, messy dance that is the pretend romance elias and peter have across the years. i hope you enjoy.

**_MARCH 1996_ **

‘Elias’ conveniently finds himself settled into his new position as Head of the Magnus Institute in time for the first quarterly fundraiser party. It makes introductions and reestablishing connections far easier, and it’s fun playing host in a slightly different fashion, no doubt displaying old habits just in a newer, charming skin. Old alliances don’t bat an eye to it, and some already know the script and their lines.

As the party winds down though, he’s reintroduced to a Lukas he only had passing familiarity with as usually his discussions were more with the current head Nathaniel. Here or there, an exchange or two had been made, but nothing short of typical business. Accepting a stray artifact now and again as well as providing cover for some questionable missing folk isn’t really something out of line. In return, they get new things for storage, and even the occasional statement, if there are those strong enough to escape their fates.

On the surface, The _Tundra’s_ captain doesn’t bear much difference than what he’s used to, and it’s the age old formality of having a new body that prompts the need for a conversation at all.

However, before he can even properly address it, Peter is pulling out his wallet, passing a note over to Nathaniel making Elias glance between the both of them in an attempt to size up the joke. 

“You’re right it is uncanny,” Peter breaks the quiet, looking amused. “If you’re going to switch identities, it might be best to work on changing yourself just a little bit more than that. Don’t want the wrong people catching on after all.”

That makes Elias laugh. While it was a concern with some people, the majority haven’t cared in the past. “You’d be surprised the things people choose to forget. As of right now, everyone seems simply surprised at my sudden promotion, complimenting me even for gaining some sense of maturity. There are few who would care to examine it further.”

“If you say so. If you’re done for the night, care for a round of poker?”

The look Nathaniel casts him is enough to nearly give away himself as to why that’s so silly an idea, but as long as there isn’t anything dire put on the line, it sounded fine enough. Knowing full well apparently what Peter can get up to, and likely eager to leave, Nathaniel declines before heading off—though curiously not before striking up a conversation with one Mr. Fairchild, which Elias is regretting having to divert his attention away from listening to.

Balancing alliances really was sometimes more trouble than it was worth.

“Your lot struck me more as the kind who preferred solitaire, but sure,” He answers after a beat, directing their game to one of the now empty dining tables.

Their first bet is so laughably commonplace that normally Elias would shake his head and leave the then young Peter Lukas standing. A thing that likely wouldn't have bothered him in the least. Regretfully though, while a simple game of cards is boring, the stipulation has Elias curious.

"I win, you let me take you out on one date," Peter offers, shuffling the pack, which Elias likely should be watching more closely. Given his current interest however, it sounds like this might be a game he doesn’t want to actually win. 

"An interesting gamble for one who consorts with The One Alone… up to something are we?”

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He throws back, face contorting into a facsimile smile that rings hollow despite the amusement that has to be there ghosting his lips.

Peter was right though. He did want to know. He always did. And if it weren’t for the mirage now obscuring that information from him, it wouldn’t be necessary at all. Frankly, it was interesting enough on its own that he was finding himself getting the attention now when this was hardly the first time they had met. It’s been a good night overall though, and he isn’t complaining about the game. There’s something surprisingly lively in the pale sea weathered man across the table he hasn’t seen from any of his family in a long time.

"And if I win?" Elias asks, even though he is already picking his cards from the deck.

"I'll bring you back a ‘souvenir’ from my next voyage."

Perhaps, it was also the fun that came with for once not having all the answers or easy access to them that made the game seem appealing. Outside of business, the _Tundra’s_ Captain had never been one to prolong visits, merely squeezing out what favors he could while communicating quite clearly what was either being offered, or needing taking care of. It was the status quo of most dealings with the Lukas family. However much Elias was curious about some of the secrets hiding under the Moorland, or below deck of the _Tundra,_ it hadn’t been something he was willing to risk too much on finding out.

Now that this gambler’s streak has been posed in his direction though, those answers might find their way to him finally. Racking up favors of his own to cash in on later didn’t hurt either.

Peter wasn’t one to play without strategy though, even if it was obvious his methods were motivated by self-indulgence more than anything. He hums while he picks and discards cards, keeping the same bemused expression throughout. It would be easy to peek, and Elias almost does before he remembers he’s supposed to be losing. It’s just too tempting to look beyond the cards in front of him and see what he’s really getting out of this. What drives that particular needless streak to tempt fate again and again? What was it about the game that scratched at the bottomless insatiable pit that no doubt lurked under the surface? How deep did that hole truly run and what would happen if he tried to gaze upon it?

Abruptly, Elias decides to fold his hand.

“Now, now, you weren’t peeking were you?” Peter asks splaying his hand to reveal a royal flush. Elias doesn’t need to read his mind to know he’s pleased about his luck and the cards he’s been dealt.

“I win,” He states needlessly as Elias stares at the cards on the table, wondering what he’s signed up for. He had wanted to know, but having just a smidge more preparation as to what he was getting into would have been nice.

“Yes, I suppose you have.”

****

**_MAY 1996_ **

The actual date isn’t arranged until later given how long it actually takes for Elias to properly settle in as the new head and do just enough needless bureaucracy to seem as if he’s shaking things up compared to his predecessor. For the most part, it goes about as well as he expected.

His staff are shocked at his turn around, but supportive and encouraging. A few of the changes he’d been wondering how to implement come easily avoided as his secretary kindly fills him in on the day to day schedule he was already well acquainted with.

Meetings with various department heads are handled, and aside from a couple moments of suspicion from Artifact Storage’s head and his current Head Archivist, they all go swimmingly.

He’s busy until mid-April when the reminder comes in the form of a crisp, salty breeze trailing in from his office doors before they shut with no indication they had ever even been opened.

“I’m heading out to sea at the end of May.” The voice attached to his windy guest supplies, and he tries to ignore the irritation at knowing the chair across from his desk will need a cleaning with how suddenly damp it is. Prickling instinct tells him Peter had been expecting him to forget, or suspecting he was trying to get out of it somehow, but he’s still far too interested.

“I assure you, I hadn’t forgotten. I’ll arrange a reservation and phone you the details. I expect to have a few lingering obligations the rest of the month, but is early May alright for you?”

“Yes, sounds lovely,” Peter responds pointedly sounding as if he couldn’t care less about the event in question. His detachment only contorts Elias’s expression into a barely contained laugh however as it comes off so forced and almost _childish_ when the man before him had been the one planning things all along.

“If you prefer, whatever it is that you were considering could easily be handled here instead. I merely presumed you would rather the event to be in a more decadent location.”

“Speak for yourself. If I’m not mistaken, I’d say you’re even excited. Since the moment I mentioned it, you’ve been imaging something. You’re telling me the opportunity to arrange it falls in your lap and you’ll eagerly give it away?”

There is a certain degree of leverage and caution Elias has been careful to hold in every situation, and it is that same caution which has kept him alive this long. Right now, there is an interest in keeping a valuable donor entertained as he isn’t quite interested in diminishing his status with the Lukas family in any capacity. Alongside it, unfortunately, is the acute reminder that one of Beholding’s trappings is the thrall of a good mystery encouraged especially by trepidation. A question or experience worth having will lead him into many events of action or inaction that even he knows can be unpleasant, unfortunate or cruel.

A dinner with Peter Lukas doesn’t necessarily spell any of these things. At worst, he’s being goaded into something, but he can’t quite grasp the picture of it as the man’s emotions remain a mystery to him. He hates that he thinks he might _be_ excited in that regard. What helps though is as much as his attempts to portray a sense disinterest, his mere interest in him at all is palpable and that is far more fascinating than anything else.

“No, you’re right. I’ll arrange it. I won’t leave you waiting for too much longer,” He promises, only feeling a twinge of insult at the lack of response and emptiness his office now exuded. Their business was finished for now and he had too much else to worry about anyway.

Their 'date' ends up being at a posh restaurant that makes Elias feel more like he was attending a business meeting than a private dinner. That rang closer to the truth anyway. It was a common choice for meetings that felt too important to simply be held in his office. Still, he isn’t in the least bit shocked to be taken to a table, and have the man keeping him waiting appear seemingly out of nowhere the moment his eye has moved away to take in the décor.

“For the one who proposed this little get together, it’s awfully rude to arrive late,” Elias jests, staring a moment longer at a painting on the wall before sliding his menu across the table for Peter to look through having had plenty of time to already make his choices. Despite the reservation being made for two, it’s obvious at this point that he’d snuck in for this prank, and at the moment, he doesn’t find the same joy in causing their poor server discomfort.

“’Fraid being fashionably late is what’s in now, but you’re still as old fashioned as ever, aren’t you?” Peter jokes right back as he glances through the options available. If he’s bothered by his play being ruined, it definitely isn’t noticeable.

“If you’re fishing for stories, that’s a little personal for a first date.”

He flashes the menu down momentarily to give Elias a look, but breezes past the accusation. “Have you got a wine in mind, or shall I pick?”

“I think something red for the evening would be fitting, if you’re agreeable.”

Peter hums in assent and their server returns looking bewildered anyway, both at the new patron at the table, as well as the fact the table itself seemed to manifest from nothing. Since it was Elias’s choice in arrangements, he forewent the need for a private table, instead preferring to be in the middle of things. Peter likely hated it.

Despite his claims from earlier, the server’s momentary jump has amusement crinkling the edges of Elias’s near permanent public smile. Not fearful enough to be as enjoyable, but the taste of it is something he’s keen to anyway.

Surprisingly, Peter keeps their table where it is after, even being kind enough to let the restaurants patrons exist close enough for Elias to see if there’s anyone nearby with an interesting enough story. Over time, he’d like to think he had developed a prowess for idly glancing through the thoughts of others, even while engaged, but be it carelessness or because Peter is well attuned to how much or how little attention is being paid to him, he notices.

“Hmm… so you really do just peek into other people’s heads. Best keep my eye on that.”

His gaze now weighs heavy on the imposing man across from him, a crashing of waves against the rocky shorelines as jagged and painful attempts to keep him out arise. There was no time to brace or attempt to hide like he had before. The Lonely do not wish to be Seen, and yet, Peter Lukas chose him for company tonight. He is playing a wager currently against himself, testing a theory on whether or not the body now hosting Jonah Magnus can actually hear and see the depths of him. It’s overwhelming and irritating, the answer was worth it, but that accursed Eye should look elsewhere.

Truly, as a courtesy, Elias painstakingly shifts away from the glimpse he’d retrieved and forces himself to behave as their server comes to take their order. He’s starving in more ways than one and it is increasingly difficult not to narrow down on the meal in front of him so desperately trying to obscure himself from view again.

“What’s wrong? Are you not having fun?” He asks, taking a sip of the glass in front of him and just barely hiding his smile in its rim.

“I think I got you all wrong at first. You’re a bit of a bastard, aren’t you?”

“Now then, it’s only fair. You could have just _asked_ instead of tempting me to take a look. When you go about things like this, why, it only makes it seem like you wanted me to try,” He levels a look at Peter, but does nothing more than settle for the crowd around them, still not finding anything of interest when the pinpricks of fear are so close.

“Really, Elias? Do forgive me for presuming, you wouldn’t answer outright. I had heard rumors about it, and now I know to be more careful.”

The caution solidifies itself in the form of a thick mist now clouding the thoughts he’d been trying to listen to earlier, and Elias tries not to feel a little disappointed the captain’s back to hiding. It’s in his nature after all.

“Well, if that was all, I would still prefer to finish our meal. If it makes you more comfortable, I can pretend you aren’t even here.”

He says it as a joke, but finds himself unsatisfied when Peter betrays nothing on how the comment actually makes him feel. Of what little he saw before backing off, it really is interesting how contradictory the man in front of him is about attention.

In truth, it’s peculiar that Peter would deem this worth his time when normally the thought of a moment alone shared with another person is at most a pain and at worst excruciating. Was confirming for himself a terrifying theory a risk worth undertaking? Given how long he’s had to do so, there must be another factor at play. As for what that could be, it’s hidden in the glimpses of memories and impressions Elias had only just started to scratch and peel away at.

They’re interrupted by their meals arriving, but it allows a pleasant break. Before the topic can be shifted away entirely, Elias decides to apply the very method he’d just suggested, not that he thinks it will get him anywhere.

“So if it was merely a means to confirm hearsay, what made now the prime opportunity to test your little theory? Why wait twenty years if it was that worrisome?”

“Honestly? I thought you were boring. I still think your methods are, and I can’t say I understand the thrill of it, but you do seem genuinely different than before. Unless that’s your attempt at acting.”

“Ah, that. Yes, it is what was expected of James, so set in his ways. People expected an older, reserved man who led the Institute with dry efficiency. Something I could understand, and play along with. Elias though… _he_ had a better sense of humor. You would have got along with him, I think. So in tuned with the notion of enjoying himself for his own sake. Content to stay in the furthest recesses of Artifacts Storage and idle his time away. He had good enough credentials and estranged enough family that he was perfect for what I had in mind,” He finishes, looking almost fond. Whether it was born from genuine nostalgia over memories that weren’t really his, or a meal he apparently had enjoyed, it wasn’t clear. Sometimes that line became blurry even for him.

“So that’s it then? He was just irresponsible enough that you got to toe the line between stuffy James Wright and what a reformed, but better liked nobody?” Peter looks amused himself at the thought of it. “Which are you really then? What actually happens to them when you take their eyes?”

“Funny… is that really something you actually want to know?” Elias asks in equal weight of genuine curiosity and an underlying cruelty that speaks of what asking that question would really mean.

Dear avoidant Peter found himself actually curious, and more than that fact merely being true, watching the notion be processed, feared and promptly denied flash across the pale man’s face was breathtaking. It’s enough that he isn’t even bothered when their table flickers out again, almost taking Peter with it. He cuts into his meal and doesn’t need to fear falling to the Lonely, for it isn’t really him trying to escape.

Jonah Magnus does not particularly care who he’s become, but he is finding himself very much interested in who Peter Lukas really is. 

**_SEPTEMBER 1998_ **

While normally Elias is proud to show off the halls of his Institute, he knows that Peter’s seemingly innocent notion of taking a look around is nothing of the sort. It’s been quite some time since he’s met with the man proper, but he can see it isn’t really the building or its inner workings motivating his quiet observance. 

At first, he was content to simply watch himself. The wayward captain would find his way to his office eventually. Then, he began to notice better just what kind of employees he took extra care in watching.

With a sigh, he resolved to fetch the man himself and end things before someone actually went missing. Thankfully, the library where he’s been glancing at some of the researchers is only a floor down from his office. When he reaches its entrance, for a moment, he catches himself staring as it really had been too long since Peter had dropped by. Elias only had himself to blame considering he’d been the one to push buttons he knew not to, but even now, he still finds himself staring down the large man before him with an insatiable need to unravel all the secrets he has tucked away. Intrusive and needling was just as much in his nature as it was in Peter’s to flee and seek solace by himself. Two who could not meet, and still he can taste that longing and fear years later prickling beneath the surface.

It really has been too long.

“Ah, Peter! I was wondering if you got lost. Did you have a separate inquiry with the library? I’m afraid many of our volumes aren’t typically out for loan, and I would rather not imagine the inevitable water damage.” 

The spell of Peter’s anonymity is broken, and Elias sensing how it must get on his nerves, doesn’t break the greeting smile accompanying his words.

“No, just wondering at the sorts of people you find to work here. They all seem to have… something about them. Wondered if any would be interested in sailing,” He answers with a barely there edge, a hint of humor that Elias was beginning to find funny himself, not that he’d admit it.

“Now Peter, I don’t believe loaning my employees out was a part of our contract.” 

“As if you don't regularly feed off the nightmares this place gives them,” He mutters back just loud enough for Elias to hear.

“Yes, well you'd be surprised how difficult it is to find replacements, not to mention the paperwork.” Finding a delicate balance between people who were both suited for this place, and would have little to lose if they found themselves in unfortunate situations was actually more difficult than it looked. With how fast and frequent Peter burned through his crewmates, it was definitely the kind of thing he wouldn’t understand.

“I’ll give them back eventually if you're going to whine about it.”

“You and I both know you can’t guarantee that, though, perhaps I’ll consider it another time. Get back to me in a few months when performance reviews come in.” 

He breaks his gaze from looking up at Peter as he feels a familiar stare coming from the other end of the hall. An elderly woman who has a brisker pace than one would assume, and a messenger bag slung by her side, could only be his current Archivist glaring daggers at the pair of them.

Elias isn’t bothered by it, used to her behavior and merely directs his attention to her for the brief moment she passes by.

She pauses as a courtesy, and he greets her with the same polite distance typical of the majority of their interactions. There is only an extra moment where she extends that same glance towards Peter, making no note of what she thinks of the _Tundra’s_ captain, and in fact, makes no attempt to greet him properly at all.

“Gertrude.”

“Elias.”

She continues on heading towards the stairs, and he does not try to see what it is she is up to—it hasn’t reached a point where he needs to intervene, and he has no interest in pushing her in any particular direction. She’s excellent for what he needs right now, if a bit erratic and unpredictable in execution. It’s very likely she will not live up to what her position is meant for, but at the moment, keeping her around has its benefits.

“She’s…”

“—interesting, yes. Best not to get on her bad side though,” He interrupts, enjoying the needling fear Gertrude has managed to nestle in Peter. Elias knew only a fraction of what the woman was really capable of, and he was interested to see where it brought her in the end.   
  
“Now then, if you’re finished here, care for something from the canteen before we start? It is lunchtime.”

**_FEBRUARY 2000_ **

“Have a nice trip? I got your present,” Elias asks as he tries to compose himself over any potentially obvious startled gestures as Peter makes himself known out of the corner of his eye. He can appreciate a man who’d rather quietly wait and watch, but he doesn’t like the glee likely found in surprising him. He had scheduled a meeting, but it seems waiting at the reception desk was not as fun as appearing in the hallway next to him on the way back to his office. 

“Yes, and don’t mention it, really. I’m just surprised he made it out; I lost money on that little stint, as fun as it was. Was his statement about it any good?” Peter huffs, though Elias can tell it is more about the loss of another victim that disappointed him. He waves to Rosie on his way back upstairs, grumpy captain in tow, and waits until they’re fully in his office, before replying.

“Oh, quite. He even _almost_ remembered your name.”

They discuss the new year and he seamlessly dodges the pointed questions about how the Institute is taking all the fallout of a media disaster that Elias would have worried more about had the majority of their donors not been aware it was all nonsense. Really, it was mostly unneeded work on top of the usual load he already had to deal with at the end of the year. 

PR concerns aside, it lead to more attention from those too curious for their own good, ultimately providing just a couple more patrons than expected.

“Right, I actually had a gift for you as well. Think of it as a thank you from the Institute for your continued support,” Elias breaks from the topic and reaches to take out a long jewelry box from his one of his desk drawers.

He watches as Peter opens the box, amused at the man’s hesitancy. Inside is an ornately detailed nautical compass, looped with a chain to be used as a necklace. It is innocuous enough, capturing both an aesthetic the captain likes, while holding a practical use that any sentimentality which could be gleaned from it is easily dismissed. Nearly dismissed anyway, as when examined closer, the center dial holds a small, almost undetectable eye.

Peter huffs another laugh, and Elias is pleased when the gift is accepted. He had been careful to frame it as simply a thank you gift, but the unintentional timing of their meeting has a dual meaning. It is a few days past the fourteenth, but had he pushed their meeting to be on that date instead, it would have been too overt.

“I was wondering actually if you were still free for the evening. You’ve returned from a trip quite recently, yes? I thought we could try another dinner that isn’t actually a ploy for information.”

“Are you trying to say you missed me, Elias?”

Crossing his legs, Elias leans over his desk, enjoying briefly how vibrantly that truth is reflected back at him, drenched in the same scared denial as usual. Choosing to be kind, he indulges the captain.

“And if I were?”

There’s a beat where Elias wonders if he’s miscalculated, the urge to tell for himself how his words have been received beyond the vague sense he’s getting rises temptingly, but Peter breaks the silence before he gives in.

“As long as I get to pick tonight, fine.”

With a smile that could or could not be genuine, Elias simply pulls over a pad on his desk, pen poised.

“Then when and where am I meeting you tonight, Mr. Lukas?”

It isn’t the same restaurant as before, but high end enough that the private seating area they’re ushered into upon arriving denotes such. Surely it is payback for the last time, but Elias can’t help wondering if it was really such a smart idea. After all, while it shuts out everyone else, all it does is narrow down the room to only the both of them—even if Peter tries to hide from him in plain sight.

The dinner is enjoyable, with a different kind of playfulness compared to the obvious games of their former one. No deep revelations are had necessarily, but the simple fun that comes of constructing a private dance only they know the moves to. Peter keeps his distance, but tries to pry in his own way about the rich and lonely past he believes Jonah to hold. Elias pokes and prods for the things Peter doesn’t want to admit, the things that made him the lonely man sitting across from him.

For every step they take forward, the other takes one back. And so they turn in circles never quite meeting in the way they want, but never quite wanting to give up the piece they have to in order to connect.

Who will find their opening first? Who will win and who will lose? Is it a game either really wants to win?  
  
Do they really want it to end?

Elias isn’t sure what it is he really wants from Peter—equating him to most men he’s been acquainted with over the years as nothing but a piece in his game and a kind companion until they’re thrown away. Whether that be for an explicit purpose, or because time makes them reach their End, either way he has lost many. The capacity to feel it is often so deeply intertwined with those old friends’ misery that the memories themselves are steeped in regret, fondness and a harrowing emptiness. An old tale that he remembers, and occasionally wants to reread, but can never really be experienced for the first time again.

Right now though, Peter is new. New and hiding his own secrets that Elias wants to take and make his own. He can start to see some of that picture in the way Peter looks at him.

It’s what possesses him to agree in continuing their evening. He follows him back to a decadent penthouse that he knows is only lived in for maybe a month or two at most during the year. Peter takes his coat and hangs his own, while Elias glances for what echoes there are of what he’d glimpsed before. He doesn’t get long until they’ve left the main room and entered the bedroom.

For the briefest moment, he misses the height of James Wright as Peter cups his face and drags him up into a kiss that has all the passion of someone who knows they’re being compared to someone else. The _Tundra’s_ captain does not want to be considered special, and appreciates that Elias doesn’t think of him that way, but he knows there is something there. A sentiment that has blossomed regardless of the tenuous relationship they hold as neither friends, nor enemies. Opposing forces in a war they have struck a convenient alliance over.

“Who are you thinking about right now?” Peter murmurs into the shell of his ear, his beard brushing his cheek.

Elias closes his eyes and pushes Peter out of his mind even though the man is encasing him. The feel of his hands gripping his hips to hold him so close, snaking their way up to undo the front buttons of his suit’s jacket. It’s the closest he’s been to another human being in decades. Not that either of them were really human anymore.

He raises his arms to drape them more properly around Peter’s shoulders and opens his eyes. Their gazes meet, and for once, the captain’s eyes reflect something that isn’t just a hazy mist, but closer to a storm brewing on the horizon. “Looking for a story even now? Or do you actually want it to be you?”

Rather than answer, Peter reaches for his tie next, pulling it down enough to loosen his collar and leans down to bite Elias’s neck. The pain is sharp and momentarily distracting, but soon enough Elias is undoing buttons on Peter’s dress shirt.

He would prefer to take his time with this and savor the moment. Memorize the details and paint a vivid enough picture that he can recall it easily, but between the irritation of Elias’s non-answer and the desperateness to avoid genuine intimacy, Peter allows him no chance to try.

Even the bite he’d left would likely disappear in short time, not nearly as painful as it should be to indicate a bruise that will take its time leaving.

His suit jacket is pulled off him, and in turn Elias reaches for Peter’s belt the moment he has his hands again. He can feel that clammy chill on the man’s stomach as he rucks up his dress shirt, and it’s unnatural and delightful. It’s been so long since Jonah has been with someone even remotely understanding of the reality of their world, and he doesn’t need to say anything when it’s understood right back how desperate he suddenly feels to be touched.

It should bother him, Peter using him to feed like this. There is no real concern, but that caution again should be screaming and reminding him who is here. He wants to see and know what a man who wants nothing to do with anyone else will do when put in a situation like this. He wants to remember the people he has chosen to place deep within his memory, despite the fear and pain that it will consume him.

Loneliness could never truly consume him though, and in the back of his mind he knows that somewhere, but right now, it’s thrilling.

The haste of their meeting has already brought them to the bed, a detail Elias _is_ bothered to have missed, suddenly lost in memories he did not willingly bring to the surface. He runs his hands over the chest above him, taking in the soft give of skin and smooth nicks of scars he lets himself peer into.

To share like this isn’t cheating or a means to end the game entirely. Simply a reality of the intimacy they’ve chosen, and it’s enough. He sees voyages gone off kilter, and a sharp wood carving knife nicking the fingers roaming his sides. He sees the sting of rope burn from adjusting sails and a horizon with nothing in sight. He hears thousands of words left unsaid, whispered in the night to no one. He sees a woman. She has no face, but he feels so cold seeing her.

“That’s enough.” A gruff voice interrupts him, those same hands guiding his chin to look up.

“You’ve seen enough,” Peter repeats, reaching for the tie Elias doesn’t remember him removing, and lifts his head enough to use it as a makeshift blindfold.

“You can think of whoever it is you want to, I don’t really care,” His voice is steady as he says it, and Elias only smiles quietly, knowing how much it really is trembling deep down. Still, he abides the request.

He isn’t entirely sure why it’s dear, old Barnabas Bennett that comes to mind in that moment. Maybe it’s his association to the Lonely, and namely that precious, desperate fear of being lost to it that has Elias—no Jonah—thinking on exactly why he failed to conquer it. Beyond the pettiness lodged deep in quite a few of the Lukases he’s had the pleasure of knowing, the man he remembers on more than one occasion was far too eager to propose himself for company. Even in his last moments, suggesting that their acquaintanceship was something special, and sentimentality is what pushed Jonah to reward that longing.

Still, the distinctions are easy to separate. Cloth may prevent him from seeing, but it’s large, calloused fingers currently thrusting inside him, opening him up. He leans up into it, chasing the sensation and pretending for Peter’s sake it isn’t him. He knows though as those fingers pull out and shift to hold his wrists down, thick thighs bracing his own, they don’t match the pitiful man in the depths of his memory.

It’s a little frustrating actually. For how good he feels, their physical connection is the tightrope between connected enough to know there’s someone in the room, someone here close and intimate, but too far to pin down. Peter gives and pulls, moving away from him while providing Elias just enough to let him know someone is there—might be there.

Elias pushes back, feeling the sudden need for genuine effort on Peter’s part to keep his wrists down, and it’s an irritating goad against how deeply he wants to feel this properly. It’s the only touch that feels real in that moment as that formerly punishing pace trickles down in response to his antics.

And yet, the phantom trailing of the beard that tickled his cheek when they kissed upon first entering the room is there again. It’s so little, but enough to kick everything else back into perception. That tiny sliver of vulnerability—the trembling hesitancy and fear it’s dripped in feel like an oasis.

Elias feels it fill him, stomach suddenly warm compared to the chill that’d settled over him and before he knows it, there’s come splattering his stomach. His ghostly lover lingers a few thrusts more, but soon enough he only is given two more of those illusionary kisses, this time on each wrist.

They hurt surprisingly. And by the end, he realizes quite distinctly he can't remember Barnabas's face. Many of his old peers share that fate, but acutely in that moment, gazing upon that wound once more fills him with a wallowing ache Jonah usually can ignore. The vast majority were men of high repute making portraits findable for sure, but a painting can only capture so much. Being a man who lived for stories, it may be far crueler to chase that grief and realize their missing voices bothered him more. 

With his wrists now free, he unties the blindfold not at all surprised to find Peter nowhere in sight.

“Next time, we’ll play my way. You owe me that much at least.” Elias comments to a room he knows isn’t _truly_ empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm writing these notes ahead of time so i can just open the drafted version on ao3 and drop the finished chapter in, but here is hoping that future me is smart and started on chapter 2 a little before posting this so you all are not left hanging. if i was not smart then i apologize if it takes a little longer for an update as it involves a lot of details i've grown fuzzy on and may take a little work to sort out. i also anticipate it being a little bit bigger than this opening bit, but we'll see you then!! thank you for reading.
> 
> if there are any tags i missed, please feel free to also give a shout!
> 
> EDIT: just noticed now a sentence did not copy and paste right mid chapter, so if you saw that and decided to ignore it Thank You, i am however embarrassed and wish i got to seeing it earlier.


	2. 2002 - 2011

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look! an update! it's only going to get more depressing from here folks!

**_DECEMBER 2002_ **

****

While normally Elias has no issues in, and even to a degree, enjoys planning events it came as a relief to not be in charge of it this year. The end of the year is always a busy time between responsibilities to the Institute, its employees, planning the usual office party, and making sure every loose end was knotted off—nothing left lingering on his check list.

So it’s a bit of a reward when all is said and done. And despite their disposition, the Lukas family threw a good party. The venue contained plenty of spots to hide away, and after giving the necessary greetings to donors also attending, he’s able to find a nice view point from one of the tables at the top of the staircase, and comfortably watch the night unfold.

With the amount of catching up between those attending, it’s easy to glean a succinct summary of how everyone else spent the year. The things they admit, the things they think they should keep as a card up their sleeves. The tentative boundaries they draw around each other and where those alliances overlap or remain prickly as ever. Elias sits and watches them all, sipping at a flute of champagne.

It’s no surprise when Peter finds him, as usual not caring to properly announce his presence.

“Being a nosy voyeur again?”

“I believe I am allowed to enjoy a party in my preferred method. I don’t see you out there mingling either, dear,” Elias retorts, turning his gaze away from the crowds flittering down below to watch his partner steal a swig of his drink.

“That’s Nate’s job. Company head and all that—I’d rather be out on the water again, but…” He does a shrugging motion both in reference to statement’s obviousness, as well as a vague indication he was supposed to be here doing… something. Given his family was hosting, putting in an appearance that he promptly turned away from most likely.

Elias is already accustomed to this and only makes a mild noise of understanding without vocalizing that the concept didn’t seem so bad at the moment. He was feeling rather weary and in desperate need of a vacation himself, though with the length that the captain preferred to be out on the water, he doesn’t think that would be enjoyable. A weekend sounded nice though.

“I take that it was another year spent well isolated then? Certainly sounded like you had little to report.” There’s a thread of humor unsaid in how quite a few of his calls went unanswered, which spoke for itself well enough. 

“Oh, nothing too strenuous, no. Did some spring cleaning of the crew; spent a couple months in València,” Peter looks wistful as he recalls it. As if by imagining it, he’ll be back in that Spanish seaside losing himself in crowds and drawing others to become just as lost. Not that Elias was peeking, much.

“Ah yes, I received your ‘care package’. Can’t say I’m too fond of potentially disease causing artifacts, but the Cuva Vella was nice to see.”

“I don’t have the same skill sets as your lot, so there’s no knowing if it’s really from the hospital they claimed, but it looked like a nice vase either way.”

“Well it’s in Artifacts now so…” Elias responds hiding how distrusting he feels in regards to the man’s true intentions, knowing for a fact it did have something attached to it. He, of course, is going to continue to feign disinterest—something he’s seemed to pick up as a reflexive instinct to match Peter. 

“And here I was going to get you flowers,” The captain laments, though the sincerity of it is muddled behind a grin which appears to contradict his words. Elias doesn’t care to look to clarify for himself, and only answers him with an eye roll. 

They stay the remainder of the party, out of sight and catching up themselves. Elias shares what gossip he feels like discussing, despite knowing Peter likely only cared to the extent of using the information to avoid as many extra conversations or meetings of his own. At some point, he must get sick of hearing about it though, and abruptly raises his head from the perch of his palm and suggests they leave.

It’s the free time Elias has to spare, he tells himself, beckoning him to follow Peter out into the night, leaving his own car to be picked up in the morning. The venue is closer to Kent and he knows they aren’t too far from the Moorland House, but isn’t surprised when it’s that same building Peter sometimes calls a home they arrive at instead.

They exchange coats and a chill settling in the room, an imitation of the past times they’ve been here—along with it, there’s an underlying hunger, once more waiting to spring free. He hadn’t been looking or expecting a longing to be there, and yet, after so many, many months apart, why wouldn’t it be?

They follow similar, yet different steps this time. Elias is more familiar with this place now despite only having been in it a handful of times before physically. He is a detail-oriented man. The model ships and carved wooden birds are still tucked away in corners meant to be dismissed. No new paintings aside from the empty coastlines he’s already seen—no doubt a gift from Simon if he detects something else alongside the strokes of that vast ocean captured in the frame.

It’s pleasant, the way Peter stares at him. Equally ravenous for what they no doubt came here for and for attention he doesn’t want to admit, all wrapped up with a lovely sheen of genuine discomfort at how deeply Elias is seeking out the person hiding behind this farce of a home. This room is nothing like the cabin he has never actually set foot into on the Tundra, and it is a place he doubts he will ever be allowed to visit.

No, this place is nothing to Peter. Merely, a place to sleep when he’s forced to anchor. A reluctant tie to society and its dregs, which Elias has happily helped wrap around his legs.

Something in his expression must have changed for Peter reaches out to him, a cold embrace at his back and an even colder kiss at his nape. He doesn’t turn to face him right away, enjoying the strange pleasantry. If he gets his way tonight, giving Peter this now is only fair.

“For a moment, I thought you were taking us back to the Moorland. Though, we are still a little ways off from an actual holiday aren’t we? You will take me there sometime, won’t you?” Elias asks, placing a hand over the one holding his side. They both know he isn’t talking about the house itself. Peter may not know it, but he remembers visiting Mordechai there—truly, it had more to do with that basement and what Peter felt about it than anything else.

“That eager to see? I keep telling you, if you accept my proposal—” He breathes, by his ear, amused until Elias twists around and cuts him off.

“And when exactly would we fit in this ‘wedding’? You’re hardly moored for long and I have an Institute to run. You always struck me as the type to remain engaged for as long as you could, so I would think this arrangement is far better than the alternative.”

Peter’s eyes darken, and it strikes Elias for the first time how deep those still waters really run.

“You… actually like the thought of it. You’d like to call me your husband,” He moves his hands up to cup the man’s cheeks, before delicately moving them down along Peter’s beard to play along his neck. His fingers trace down his pulse enjoying the rapid thoughts accompanying it.

“A connection of your own definition, but one none the less… Are you that worried I’ll leave you behind? Bit hypocritical don’t you think?” The smile he directs isn’t necessarily meant to be cold, but it is piercing in a way he knows is uncomfortable.

“Not really. I’m aware it wasn’t as common in your day, but anyone can get a divorce rather easily now. Marriage isn’t the contract you’re imagining it to be.”

“No, maybe not, but that’s all the more reason for me to wonder what it is you imagine it to be. You can ignore it all you want later, but right now you will look at me and tell me,” Elias starts, stilling his hand to hold at the back of Peter’s neck, keeping him in place to meet his eyes. He doesn’t have an Archivist’s compulsion, but he has intimidation and the invasive, burning reminder gripping tight into the pale man beside him that he cannot run right now.

“Peter Lukas, do you really want to marry me?”

For a man capable of having almost anything he could desire, arranging his life to be as self-indulgent as possible, it’s uncommon those desires ever actualize in the form of wanting another person. Someone so used to the world around him rejecting his existence that he’s learned to soak in it, and pretend he loves it, wearing it as a second skin. And maybe, to a degree he does actually love it. The utter and unabashed way you can love yourself when there isn’t a need to think about another soul in the world.

And that is why at the root of it someone like Elias is both perfect and terrible for him. Because he’s so afraid of being seen, it’s only natural the Eye would show interest. And Elias wishes to know him so intimately exactly because he hides. All the while, he can know with certainty that such a fascination is surface level, having very little to do with the fact it is Peter specifically he is showing interest towards.

It is why Peter spells all the justifications in the world for their relationship. It is why he can indulge in the easy nature of being seen, but not being cared for, until sometimes, it feels like he is wanted—like he wants and wants and will be denied. Abandoned once he’s been found because he knows Elias doesn’t hold on to anything for long. Besides bones that is.

“Yes,” is all Peter will admit to, impossibly small, but it reaches Elias and warms him in a way that he knows is more than just affection. He rewards the admission, stroking his cheek before learning up to kiss him properly. It doesn’t even occur to him immediately the words were never actually spoken, but plucked from the captain’s head.

There will be many nights where this doesn’t mean anything, but for tonight, there is a vulnerability Elias doesn’t know when or if he’ll have the pleasure of seeing again. In truth, there isn’t really a way they could right now, and he had never imagined himself a married man. Defining what they have would be too much for both of them, but making it a comfortable illusion confined to a ring that he doesn’t have to think about if he doesn’t want to is a preferable solution.

The kiss is chaste, and this time, it is him breaking away and walking to the bedroom, removing his clothes with a practiced patience, expecting Peter to follow suit. Peter flips from fidgety to irritated, finally catching onto what was just discussed, and Elias soaks in the emotions radiating off him hidden in the rustle of clothing. Without a word, he retrieves some coils of rope and lubricant from the bedside drawer, and simply waits and watches.

Peter’s second guessing why he brought him here and Elias is patient—the captain will come to his own conclusions in the end. Either way, Elias knows he will play into the game set up tonight and he only smiles when Peter finally lies on the bed. After a beat, he resigns and raises his arms to the headboard.

Methodically, Elias twines the rope around those presented wrists, and prompts Peter to test the tightness.

“Comfortable?” He asks, looking down. It’s just the ropes he is referring to here, and the flicker of a scowl he receives is indicative that at least Peter has accepted how things will go.

“They’re fine,” He answers him, muted and tense. It pleases him to see him restricted like that, such an easygoing man who usually was so fond of startling others looking instead so impossibly small for someone of his stature.

“Excellent,” Elias murmurs, tone light and notably excited. He stays on top of him, and resumes the languid kisses he’d intended to give before their conversation began. While Peter had been annoyed minutes prior, he can feel the interest in his prick as it hardens, bumping into his backside. He bites the pale man’s lower lip, feeling all at once a rush of cold air exhaled with a moan. 

Elias begins to trail those kisses south. Unlike his partner, he prefers to not only take his time, but leave a lasting imprint. There isn’t any doubt who he’s with when it comes to Peter, no, but the man is so obsessed with giving just enough to make a person want more. A lingering note of dissatisfaction, enough to draw in that hungry voracious need for contact he feeds on.

For Beholding though, it is about the experience. About learning and cataloguing all those little things, people don’t even know about themselves necessarily until they’re in the act. Especially the things they don’t know—don’t want to show.

It’s unavoidable like this for Elias not to look. Once the captain is drawn in, feeling really comfortable, he opens that eye and takes a gander at just what marriage means for a Lukas like him.

When he looks, he sees shadows of people. More like impressions or ghosts really, and yet, all come together to welcome a new member. The Moorland House from the outside is about the same as he remembers it. A foggy almost forgotten place that only served as a temple and a tomb.

He sees dances where there is no feeling, stilted haunting music, and tables so far apart from one another that you’d think the room was empty even with the party clearly going on around them. Even the couple in question, once their vows and first dance finished are far apart from each other. As if they were strangers on separate sides of a dance hall—which perhaps, they were.

And that was the problem though wasn’t it? Elias isn’t meant for the Lonely—isn’t willing to truly join that family. Peter knows this. He knew it from the beginning and knew what he was getting into when approaching Elias with even the semi-serious notion of a date, but he’s comfortable with it. With maintaining the distance they already have, only with the facsimile promise of belonging that he could and would never truly have.

Truly what a heartbreaking notion that is so very pitiful and suiting of the situation. Something finally that Elias understands.

As he comes away from that, it’s written across Peter’s face with trails of unwanted salty tears, and etched into his heart. All Elias is doing is plucking away at scabs, poking at a raw gaping sore he never had any intention of soothing.

“Oh Peter,” Elias says softly, no real sense of comfort in his voice. He’s enjoying how far he can stretch this, and it’s with a reluctant, rare mercy he withdraws from the other place he wanted to see in that house. If he tries to look anymore, well, there won’t be anything left—and that wouldn’t be any fun, would it?

****

**_DECEMBER 2005_ **

They never do marry. Even when a legal approximation could be considered, there are too many things, and good reasons, that stop it from ever happening. Still, in the end, Elias goes far enough to accept an engagement ring and they make believe it is real, knowing it isn’t just him who often removes it. Honestly, he’s more surprised Peter didn’t take this as a proper sign to simply end the game, not that he’s seen him for longer than necessary the past couple years. Whether that’s his attempt to instill that _loneliness_ he’s so craving or… something else, Elias is too busy to care. 

How do you love a man who has no ability to perceive it? Who, in fact, reflexively rejects every attempt at genuine affection?

Elias even hesitates to necessarily ascribe that much feeling to whatever it is their relationship has become. It has enough characteristics for the applicable term of lovers, but there is a history Jonah holds with that word, which has always had an underlying cruelty he can never seem to shake. The both of them do really.

He’s had lovers in the past. Strings of men who’d sing his praises until they saw the depths of him and either were in too deep to get away, or ran as far as they could. Peter was neither of these types of men. They were similar in such a way that it was both a relief and irritating. Men of their nature can attribute as many pretty words and intentions as they want to the way they treat each other, and he knows for as much as Peter can feel for him, what they share is mutual. Perhaps, it’d be better to say they tolerate each other.

Even if there are times that Elias wants to bridge that narrowing gap and see what else is lurking under the surface, he knows such a reality would never exist. And further that he cannot describe the feeling which draws him into wanting that as anything but the endless need to unravel that which does not want to be seen. An itch caused by mere fascination that could and would only end in painful tragedy. If he were a kinder man, maybe he could see himself comforting what he found behind that empty smile, but he knows himself too well. If he had his way, he would utterly destroy Peter and maybe regret it, but he knows he would still do so.

That is why he does not entirely begrudge the man his fleeing and disguises. The way he will run hot and cold and pretend so frequently that he could drift away at any moment, leaving Elias a forgotten memory. It’s his own way of dealing with it, and it’s fitting payback to only scratch at wounds Elias himself pretends don’t exist.

They don’t love each other so much as the idea of what it would be like to be with each other. A thing that in practice never quite turns out the way it’s played out in the imagination. A momentary lapse where it’s easy to pretend that affection is real, a relationship forged on understanding unperceivable to anyone else around them.

Someday, it’s going to destroy one of them—and Elias does not plan on it being him. 

**_MARCH 2006_ **

****

“Yes, Peter? I do believe this is the first time that you’ve actually been early to an appointment,” Elias addresses the now sudden form of his partner in the chair across his desk. He doesn’t look up from the stacks of department expenses he’s trying to catalogue and update to a budget’s spreadsheet, also laid out on the desk.

“I’m here to cash in a favor.”

“Right, my unfortunate guess regarding Mr. Rayner last year,” he starts, waiting on the captain to prod the conversation along. 

“I’m not asking for much, just to give a little back you could say for a project of mine. Requires some specific construction, placing and people in mind, which that eye of yours would be just great for,” Peter explains, laughing at his own joke.

“Your project, yet my work, I see. I wasn’t aware you were looking for a secretary,” He muses, reading over the budget expenses from the research department as he listens. He had hoped to have this aspect of his day squared away before dealing with whatever it was his ‘husband’ wanted to talk about.

“Real estate agents and contractors are so annoying. You love talking to people though, so you’ll probably have a blast. And it’s not like I won’t be there—I have it all planned out, I just need to find the right people to do it. So all I’m asking is for you to do a little research, which is something this place does, is it not?”

“And will I be privy to this project, or will that be a secret for me to figure out?”

“Haven’t got a name for it yet, so no. It’ll be fun—certainly more so than the little experiment Fairchild’s gotten my family sucked into,” He sounds bored, maybe even a bit bitter at that.

“Oh? Right, I heard about that. Do wish I could see how well that will work, but with Mr. Rayner involved, it’s doubtful. Although, if they make it out, maybe I’ll see about them giving a statement.”

Peter shoots him a withering look over his priorities, but Elias ignores it. Luckily, the whole thing has nothing to do with him.

“It just seems like a waste overall.”

“Sometimes it’s about the quality, not the quantity.” 

“Say that when you can fund your own Institute,” Peter quips back. There’s no arguing with that necessarily, but it is funny enough that Elias gives him a bemused smile not deeming it with a response.

“Well, I’ll let you know how thoroughly afraid whoever gets stuck up there is and we’ll decide on it later. Now, is there any sort of time table for this other juncture of yours?”

Peter hums, deciding finally to give Elias just a few more pieces to work with.

“Soon as possible, I’ll send over what I have in mind. I’m sure you’ve already heard the rumors, but a supposed extinction might be coming, so the sooner the better. While I’m at it, I’m also including that you won’t interfere when things kick off, but that’s to be assumed, of course.”

For all the rituals attempted over the years that Elias has witnessed, none of them—including his own first attempt—completely worked, so he really doesn’t have any intention of trying to ruin things. However, he also has been paying a little attention to what his current Archivist has been up to and knows that there’s always the chance she will do something. In that regard, perhaps it would be kind of him to give Peter a warning, but he doesn’t control and can’t consistently predict the things Gertrude Robinson deems necessary to handle. She appears to have her hands quite full with stopping other rituals, so for all he knows it will slip under the radar.

“Well, if it comes, it comes. You know I’d much rather watch and see what happens than make any effort to stop either you or any new power emerging. I’m simply curious as to whether it’ll be enough to do anything.”

“Right. Of course, you would say that.” Peter says, and it should bother him that he can’t quite tell what he means by it. Though, from the stare Elias is receiving that feeling is mutual. He has his own pieces being moved along right now and the coming of another power matters very little in regards to what he’s attempting to do. He, unfortunately, also just hasn’t found the right person for it, yet.

**_SEPTEMBER 2007_ **

****

Time and technology has diluted it, but there is nothing quite like starlight on an open deck far, far away from any overpopulated, glaringly bright city. Such a sight _almost_ makes Peter understand what it is that Simon sees, but it isn’t the Vast, which is capturing him right now.

It has been a rather bad year for Peter Lukas.

While he hadn’t done much more than provide resources and keep an ear out, the _Daedalus_ experiment had eaten up a chunk of time and money that he couldn’t even feel arrogant about. His bet with Elias on that may have been won, but the man had seemed oh so indifferent to his other little project being ruined. They’ve spoken before about Gertrude and the type of woman she is—still the thought of having all his work tossed away over a newspaper article is infuriating and humiliating.

The waves of the Atlantic can never disappoint him, and for Peter that is a relief beyond measure right now.

There was no need to ask Elias if he knew. If Gertrude was set on it, she would have done it just based on the rumors being passed around, and of the indistinct and few impressions he’d garnered, even he likely couldn’t have done anything. No, what Peter really didn’t want to see was the absence of interest—a blank gaze, perhaps with a hint of that smile he always held, which further spelled dubiousness. He isn’t even sure why it feels vaguely like a betrayal on Elias’s part when technically he hadn’t done anything. When did that start to bother him though? It should be a comfort, a reminder.

Peter watches the waves idly lap at the side of the _Tundra_ and wonders what changed. Moonlight faintly glints off the ring on his finger, and he imagines throwing it into the ocean.

Alone, he can gaze at the stars and the moon and feel at peace knowing there is no one else to share this sight with. No one else he would want to share this sight with. He sailed over eight thousand kilometers away from the one person who he might have considered wanting to share it with, and he’s not entirely sure just when it will be that he returns.

****

**_JULY 2011_ **

****

**Vardø, Norway**

Peter stares at the phone buzzing on the hotel’s nightstand, wondering once again what possessed him into getting one, let alone keeping it on his person. Convenience in this era often requires time specific urgency, he supposes, but it still didn’t have to be something he liked, let alone abided. As such, when he sees the caller ID as none other than Elias Bouchard, he has half a mind to ignore it. It wouldn’t be the first time, and whatever it was he wanted to talk about could easily be contained to a voice mail.

So he lets it ring. He turns another page in his book, but instead of the notification of a waiting voicemail, the phone lights up once more. Elias is still calling and that is new.

With a sigh, he picks up. Unsurprisingly, the man doesn’t start with any pleasantries. He must know that since Peter has actually decided to answer, he doesn’t have long.

“You’ll still be in Vardø for a few more days correct? I need a favor.”

“Maybe. Depends on exactly what you’re asking for?” Peter complains, shuffling the phone to better squeeze between his ear and shoulder. If he can tune his sometimes husband out well enough, maybe he can still focus on his book. He’d long stopped bothering to chide the other man for keeping an eye on where he is, so he wasn’t planning to even ask how he knew.

“I need you to pick up Ms. Robinson and one of her assistants in Dikson. They need a lift to Zemlya Sannikova, and I figured you would be in the area and have a working vessel.”

He barks a laugh because while he understands, the request is ridiculous.

“Oh you are something else, Elias. Exactly why should I do this favor for you, let alone her? You’ve already racked up quite a debt with me already.”

“Because dearest, you might also want to ensure that the Distortion doesn’t get its way. Of course, if you’d like to exist in that kind of world, who am I to stop you? I’m sure knowing her, there’s another plan up her sleeve, but I figured why pay the extra expenses for a ship when I have you.”

He frowns reflexively at that wording. It isn’t necessarily that he doesn’t like the notion—the implicit possession they both hold of each other and the ease with which that label doesn’t have to mean anything. Peter himself was a firm believer of absence making the heart grow fonder and steadfastly pushes that to its brink, finding the delightful way Elias tries to pretend like he didn’t miss him at all when they next meet. He also ignores the fact that sometimes it was actually true. 

“Hm, so you _won’t_ be paying for the fuel needed to get there and back? What payment should I expect then?” Peter’s voice dips at that, finally finding some ground in this conversation that feels comfortable.

There’s a shift of clothing barely audible on the other side of the phone. A pause and he can almost see the calculating and playful smile on Elias’s face.

“Hurry back and you’ll find out.”

The phone call ends before he can answer, and it’s a strange, vaguely defeated sensation caving into his chest at the prospect of returning. Of seeing whether Elias felt anything by his absence and if that will sustain him or preparing for Elias to try and take something else from him.

Doing what he does best, Peter simply shuts the phone off entirely and returns to his novel.

**Dikson, Russia – Arctic Sea**

A few days later, he finds himself docking at the port town Dikson. Gertrude is waiting with someone who must be the assistant Elias mentioned, flitting and looming around her as if he can keep the blustering winds from reaching her. What really gets Peter about the sight is that _he_ is the one who looks like he could be flattened at any moment, wild blonde hair lashing about almost as bad as his fretting. He doesn’t make an effort to greet either of them though, and merely goes as far as indicating the _Tundra_ is here and ready. He leaves the settling of their new cargo to his crew and returns to his cabin.

Gertrude surely knew where they were heading as that had been another aspect to the fun chat he’d had with Elias, which hadn’t come up. Zemlya Sannikova doesn’t actually exist.

It isn’t until they’re further out to sea, still at least another day away from nearing their supposed destination, does he take to checking in. Night has fallen and everyone is either where they’re supposed to be or trying to fade into the background as best they can. Neither of these things concern Peter as he walks the deck of his ship. The ends of his navy scarf are trying to whip away from him and absentmindedly, he considers replacing it soon. Another gift from Elias that he didn’t actually dislike, but it was getting old.

The cold of the Arctic is familiar, albeit bordering the edge of just too much. Certainly, too much for anyone else on board, which makes it regretful he can’t stay there himself. He doesn’t remain above deck as long as he might if they were anywhere else, and instead hides himself back below.

Despite all the maps stored in Peter’s cabin, sure enough when they reach the spot Gertrude directed them to, there is an impossible island in front of them. He idly watches the pair bundle up twice as much, her assistant fails in trying to take the backpack’s weight for Gertrude and Gertrude… she simply looks at him with those eyes again. They’re worse than Elias’s stare, he decides.

“We won’t be long,” she assures, voice hard. And soon enough, he can’t see either of them anymore.

The perverse urge to abandon her here hits him, but he had already agreed to the favor and heads back to his cabin to wait out however long her business will last. One or two of his crew express interest in looking for themselves and he has to send them off to do something else, wondering if he misread them that badly. No one aboard should care about what’s happening on that island that cannot and yet does exist.

He waits in his cabin and scratches down on one of the maps about where they must be. It isn’t really with any intention of returning—he has no interest in the Spiral.

Eventually, Peter directs his gaze to the necklace he’d received almost a decade ago, hanging on his cabin's wall and left uncovered for their little trip. He assumes Elias would want to watch—be there in his own way. Yet, as he always knows, the captain remains alone. He is intimately aware of how Elias's eyes feel when weighing upon him, and as such hates that he is relieved and disappointed when it is missing.

**London, United Kingdom**

Elias is distracted. He had every intention of watching while going through the motions of interviewing new employees, but he is floored by the young man taking the seat across his desk. It is not so much that he finds himself incapable of multitasking like he usually would, but oddly that he doesn’t want to.

A gift dropped right in his office is very hard to ignore. And he is a gentleman first and foremost, knowing that the Mother takes priority over his passing fancy and wayward Archivist. Someone already marked by the Web and yet still just as painfully curious despite the event. He observes it all and hopes this one works out. That he has finally found his Archivist.

“I think you’ll fit in quite well here at the Institute, Jon.”

By the time he looks back to the _Tundra_ , it’s over. Gertrude has returned to the ship leaving another assistant to an unfortunate end, and Peter is engrossed in a book, looking utterly indifferent even with the eyes he must feel directed on him now.

Reluctant as the captain was initially, the favor is done. And after Gertrude is dropped off back in England, their meeting is brief. He doesn’t join him this time or take Elias up on what he’d had in mind, however vulgar he had implied it over the phone. Truly, Peter doesn’t really want to be there at all. There’s a hollow smile in the way he says perhaps next time, and leaves again. The lingering chill eats away at him more than he expects, but at the same time, it feels different.

He wonders if his husband will ask why he wasn’t watching earlier, or if he even noticed. He wonders with all that heavy, cold nothingness expanding ever so slowly between them, if Peter has taken his ring off.

He wonders why he doesn’t check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> entirely want to give inspiration credit to the imagery of the wedding scene and the moorland house in particular to a Very lovely fic [ a glass essay ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20185513/chapters/47828137) which made me realize how much i actually like peter? if you are reading this and have not read it i Highly recommend it, the characterization and atmosphere are absolutely incredible. 
> 
> otherwise thank you for sticking with me!! i'm hoping to keep this nice pace with updating, but considering we're moving into the years that will be a little more specifically canon compliant and also to avoid burning myself it might be a little longer. thank you for the kudos, comments and bookmarks though!! i really appreciate knowing people liked it as while i'm having fun it's always nice to know other people are enjoying it too.


	3. 2012 - 2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! couple of quick warnings that don't quite fit in proper tags! 
> 
> \- i did not want to use the tag infidelity because it isn't really accurate to the situation, but if discussion of potential jealousy in relationships bothers you, it is mildly mentioned though as has been established they are not in a monogamous or committed relationship... it's complicated.
> 
> -in that same vein, there are ambiguous thoughts on Elias's end that could suggest he has one-sided affection for jon, however, this is also warped in the story and not elaborated on or named specifically. it is something that could be interpreted though so again simply wanted to warn for it. 
> 
> thank you for bearing with me as this took quite a lot longer to get out than anticipated! i wanted to make sure it was as compliant as possible and between working on other projects the process of relistening to episodes to double check details slowed down immensely. anyway, i hope you enjoy the ending!

**_SEPTEMBER 2012  
_**  
  
Once more, Peter Lukas is late to a meeting. Given how little they’ve even spoken during the year, it was a wonder why he arranged one at all, but Elias supposes business will still call regardless. For as much as he’d work out ways to avoid as much contact as possible, and successfully done so, some things needed to be discussed in person.

Needless to say, he isn’t surprised to find the captain once again lurking the hallways, this time outside the research department. However many times Elias repeats that his staff are off limits, every now and then Peter will end up ‘lost’ and someone, be it an employee or a patron attending his Institute, will end up missing. After a beat of watching himself, he catches on to precisely why he’s outside this department specifically.

“Ah, ah, ah, I’m afraid you can’t have that one.”

“Oh come on, look at him. He’s suited for it—in fact, he’d probably make it out even, and wouldn’t that be interesting?” Peter glances down at him then, but it doesn’t sway Elias in the least bit. He had no intention of even mildly entertaining the notion of giving this one away. Not that he usually preferred to with any of his employees in the first place.

“Yes, but he came here for a different reason. I think it’d be best to respect that while he’s looking for answers. And the Lonely is hardly what he’s after.”

He’s given another stare, as no doubt Peter is aware now there’s something Elias is up to—not that he had hid it exactly. Part of the fun though was showing one card, but not his whole hand.

“Well, if whatever it is you’re planning on goes awry… you know where to find me.”

Their conversation abruptly ends when Jon’s paranoia finally makes him look behind him. However, while there definitely were two sets of eyes staring, only Elias is left standing there. He sets his materials down on the table and goes to meet him in the hallway, bewilderment clear in his eyes.

“Mr. Bouchard? Er, is there something you needed from the research department? I can go get—”

“Please, Elias is fine. And no, that won’t be necessary. While I have you though, are you feeling alright?” His tone indicating what he knows Jon would not appreciate spelled out. The approval for bereavement time had to also be signed off by him, and while he’d been brief and sympathetic, there was little room for the man in front of him to openly accept those kind words.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Thank you for the flowers,” Jon retreats again, and Elias does not need to sift through his head to know he’s said those same sentences at least twenty times in the past couple weeks. To avoid him running off, and because he does not want him to entirely turn his eye away from their conversation, Elias places his hand on the researcher’s shoulder.

Giving what is meant to be a reassuring squeeze, he emphasizes his concern, which shockingly feels genuine. “It’s still quite recent so, truly, if there is anything else you need, you know where my office is.”

The room around them drops a few degrees, and between the sentiment finished and the way Jon’s shoulder twitches, shivering under his fingers, Elias lets go. He watches Jon take that as a sign he can go back to work, briefly rubbing his arms as he walks back into the research department. Likely trying to bring back some warmth from the sudden chill that he must surely think is just him.

However, it was more than the echoing grief filling the captain somewhere around them and he knew that. The young man in front of him in a familial sense was truly alone now—he couldn’t begrudge Peter for wanting to pounce on that feeling practically hollowing out a home in Jon. It didn’t help that from his sifting he already made little effort at keeping up with those around him, but not out of the same kind of loneliness that spurred Peter on.

No, Jon simply did not seem to know how to interact with others. Too many spurned attempts at being understood, too many boundaries and rules he broke carelessly and had broken in return. He’d only been working there for a few months and has already had a few HR chats about being a little more patient with their patrons.

That tendency to isolate and carelessly butcher whatever relationship he found himself in might prove useful in other fashions, but it was never meant to be for the benefit of any Lukas if he could help it.

He turns back to return to his office, almost certain that Peter is still around somewhere.

Oddly, when he does find the man waiting for him, his mood seems dramatically better than it has in quite some time. Their meeting as a result goes far more pleasantly than Elias had been expecting. Ever curious, he has the question of why half formed in his mind as he stands by the door ready to see the captain out. Before it leaves his mouth however, Peter is leaning down and kissing him.

He thought he’d be more petulant about being denied another member of Elias’s staff, but maybe whatever grief he fed on was enough.

“Dinner later? Maybe even a little dip down to that new exhibit they’re putting out—some of your old acquaintance’s work might even be in there. I’m not due to return to sea until next week.” 

Elias waits a moment and gives Peter another glance of scrutiny. This is the most interest he’s shown in a quite a few years, so it is reasonable for him to be suspicious as to why. Suspicious, and unfortunately as always, curious.

“I suppose I can indulge you for the evening. There’s a lovely little place that opened recently I’ve been meaning to try.”

“Wonderful.”

And just like that, Peter is gone. Assuredly, he’ll be back by the time Elias leaves, and he’s perfectly fine with that. 

He’s greeted at the entrance upon leaving, and in short order their dinner plays out similar to the last several. It never seemed to matter how long it took between one meeting from the next, things tended to play out the same.

Peter isn’t necessarily moodier, simply withdrawn. Elias talks for the both of them, and isn’t the least bit surprised when much of what he says gets little attention or response. Despite his curiosity, he has half a mind to take Peter up on his other offer as much as he isn’t in the mood to look at art or dwell on a past he’s already made peace with. He watches Peter dance around the subject, not wanting to seem any more eager than he had already appeared. Only when he’s fully satisfied, Elias ends things with the suggestion they return to his place—something Peter had evidently been waiting for given the interest he finally shows.

However, it isn’t until Elias is stretched out below Peter when the captain broaches the subject he has been waiting hours to figure out.

“Tell me about him.”

For a moment, Elias is actually dumbstruck. Keeping him in the dark further, Peter doesn’t allow him to peek as the mist curls around them thicker. He shivers as gooseflesh prickles across his skin from where they were moments ago connected. Now he’s lost somewhere, and once he deems Elias’s helplessness satisfying, clarifies.

“The young man from today. He’s the one who has you distracted, is he not?”

“He isn’t much of anything yet—just a possibility. Are you jealous?” Elias laughs hands breaking through that thick fog to play at Peter’s thighs currently on either side of his chest, feeling the way he hardens against his stomach. Peter only spares him a look, almost disappointed Elias would even entertain the notion. He isn’t, really. Elias can tell that much, but deeper down, there’s a glimpse of something else.

Their entanglement is all the more appealing to the man above him for sole reason that it truly is hollow now. Elias would be remiss to say he once or twice thought fondly on how their brief times together played out, but he sincerely isn’t sure if he has ever missed Peter with any of the depth a lover might. It’s something he’s known for quite a long time, something the captain has toyed with, fed on and used retroactively to remind himself of what pointlessness comes with attachment.

Their bodies meeting aren’t so much a final goodbye, but an evolution. A joining where the Lonely can enjoy the illusion of company, while the Eye it looks at is finally, safely and pointedly looking somewhere else. At someone else.

Elias understands now.

“No, that would be silly wouldn’t it?” He smiles, and leans up to kiss those cold lips. They would enjoy this evening, and neither one of them would care if it happens to be the last.

That particular thought might be too early to tell though.

**_MARCH 2015_ **

****

“Heard your Archivist is missing, should I offer my condolences?”

“If you’re suggesting I’m upset about it, not particularly. I’m in the process of replacing her actually,” Elias answers back airily, not sure if he should be more surprised Peter came to this year’s fundraising party or that he’s decided to approach him about Gertrude of all things. Last he’d heard the man was due out to sea, this time somewhere near Nova Scotia.

“Never did care much for her.” His hollow tone replies, breaking their little bubble long enough to grab a flute of champagne from a waiter passing by.

“Suggesting you normally do?” Elias jests, curious if there is anyone in Peter’s life who he’s lost and genuinely missed. As far as he’s aware, there has never been anyone from the start, but it’s not as if he keeps tabs on him any more than the occasional glance into what he’s doing. Staring any deeper only spells danger and Elias has already come to terms with the fact he might have to one day.

“Absolutely not!” His mocking is defense nothing more than an obvious joke, before continuing.

“Still, it was only a matter of time until something caught up to her I suppose,” he adds conversationally, completely detached from the matter. As an afterthought, he tacks on, “I hope the next one you appoint isn’t such a bloodhound.”

Elias has to disguise the urge to laugh. Given what Jon is unknowingly being dropped into, it would do him better to be like Gertrude, but it will be quite some time until he sees what sort of person his new archivist will grow into. If Jon lives through any of it at all even.

Peter has known Elias long enough that even though the man doesn’t laugh, just from his expression, his amusement over something is clear. Elias saves him the mortification of having to ask, lest he have to admit he’s curious.

“No, he’s nothing like her at all. Perhaps, I’ll bring him along for introductions later this year.”

“That’s quite alright; I have a feeling I know who it is.” 

Elias’s eyes flash dangerously with a knowing look, but before he can open his mouth to make even the barest suggestion about why Peter may not want to properly meet Jon the man is gone.

He doesn’t end up hearing from him again until almost a full year later. No pleasantries, just a clipped warning that Jon cease digging into Lukas family affairs over voicemail, and Elias doesn’t bother calling him back. It takes everything he has to sound stern when giving Jon the warning and not encourage him.

**_AUGUST 2016_ **

****

If there is one thing Elias can count on, it is Peter deigning it necessary to contact him only when it is most inconvenient. The man vehemently hated phones, made a point to ignore his calls when needed, but it made an irritating kind of sense that he would choose now to instigate a call whilst Elias is attempting to deal with the fallout of Jane Prentiss’s attack on his Institute.

All things considered, the damage to the building itself was relatively minimal. Parts of the archives would need mending and a vast amount of worm carcasses would need to be taken care of, but otherwise, all simple fixes.

On top of these things, there comes the explanation he needs to craft for what few news sources would wish to report on it. Jane Prentiss herself is now ash, and the notion of a worm infestation isn’t exactly news worthy, even if there were injuries involved. Gertrude’s murder is still under investigation and easy enough to hide from the public under everything else that occurred, but dealing with it all still involves phone calls.

As for what the worms have done to his staff they were useful in some ways, while potentially dangerous in others. He can already see the gears turning in Jon’s head. Even covered in holes and bleeding, he’d desperately insisted on a proper statement from each of them after the event. It’s the culmination of months of work, and now that the rug’s been fully ripped out from under him, his growing paranoia over the discovery of Gertrude’s dead body is a delight to watch.

Elias has no interest in killing Jon though, as much as he’s suspecting otherwise.

If he wasn’t so busy, he’d be watching it unfurl more as Jon fitfully tries to rest, unable to find peace until he’s back in those archives and attempting to find answers that won’t reach him. Unfortunately though, the ringing of a phone demands his attention as it has all afternoon.

“Ah, Peter, this is a rare occasion. To what do I owe the pleasure.” His tone doesn’t reflect the words in the slightest, as he pays little mind to the voice on the other end, eyes comparing estimated costs of repairs and neatly accounting them into the month’s budget.

“I heard something interesting. Seems you’re doing quite fine though, so I can assume you weren’t in the middle of it as usual?”

“Yes, well, these things happen from time to time.” He taps the end of his pen against the ledger, as a thought comes to mind. The numbers in front of him present a minor problem as while he’d already surmised the extent of the damages will be small, it was still an unexpected expense.

“While I have you, is there any chance you’d be willing to help with the expenses of clean up? I’m sure we can negotiate something to even out the exchange.”

Peter is silent on the other end. For a brief moment, Elias wonders if the man is preparing to hang up as his earlier question had already been answered. Considering he had called specifically to check up on his investment and nothing more, it only seemed fair for Elias to elaborate.

“Find me a new crew mate, and we’ll call it even.”

“Leaving again so soon? Fine that seems reasonable.” Elias knows Peter isn’t going to explain further, and he’s busy enough himself that he doesn’t care. All they’ve done is solve a problem for each other, and at this point, business is all he cares for their relationship to be.

There are much bigger concerns he has to attend to.

**_  
MAY 2017_ **

****

Peter looks displeased across from him, but Elias ignores it, knowing his sour mood stems from his opening request that the captain clear his schedule and stay ashore. It was difficult enough to get him in for a meeting, but too much weighs heavily on what needs to be arranged today.

“I need to take a leave of absence soon, so I wanted to propose a little wager. Someone needs to watch over the Institute and I know how eager you always are to take my staff and patrons. _If_ you can convince one of them to join your little club while I’m gone, then the Institute is yours.”

His irritation alleviates just slightly as intrigue takes over with more questions lingering about just why Elias needs to leave, but ultimately, he doesn’t ask about them. It’s a typical feigned attempt at nonchalance, one that as usual, he pretends not to know or see for the captain’s sake.

“Sounds fun. One more thing though: if I win, I also want your Archivist.”

“Oh? I thought you didn’t get jealous,” Elias muses, watching Peter carefully. He was expecting a refusal, or perhaps even a different sort of caveat.

“I don’t. I know he’s important enough in whatever this whole mess you’re kicking off is, and more than that, he’s been your little pet project for the past several years. What better prize than to take that from you and toss it away?”

Elias still looks amused at the idea of it, but in light of how poorly things keep looking from his end, it comes off as falsely attributed arrogance in Peter’s eyes.

“You’re asking for quite a lot of favors these days…” Peter adds on, an unspoken question hanging in the air, which he knows won’t be answered. It’s interesting anyway to see Elias so desperate. Just last month he was pushing for help in finding his Archivist, and now here he is preparing once again for something.

Whatever scheme he was working towards, in the end didn’t matter. Peter knew Elias liked to think he was in control because he could usually read his opponent and planned ahead—that’s all this was. He isn’t happy about the notion of the _Tundra_ being moored for so long—him stuck on land with it—but the prospects of the bet aren’t too bad. Elias in particular had horrible luck it seemed, and had been getting sloppier as time went on. Maybe he even came to Peter thinking he still cared for their tentative relationship just because he’s decided to pay a little more attention again, but the captain wasn’t about to let himself be used in that manner.

“Keep me updated then I suppose. I do hope you don’t expect me to completely abandon my duties while I’m here if you’re to have me moored for an indeterminate amount of time.”

“If you need to duck out and find someone, of course I won’t begrudge you, but I would prefer you not take my staff so hastily—patrons too, while we’re at it. Don’t think I didn’t see what you did on your way up here. You’ll come to find little gets done if there’s no one around to do it.” 

Peter pretends to concede and Elias pretends he believes him.

They arrange another meeting within the week to go over the details. Have Peter meet some of the staff. All perfunctory business that continues to carry on for the next several weeks after. Elias continues to watch as always and wonders if taking leave to check on the Usher Foundation in person would be a good option, not that he’s particularly keen to stray too far from the country. This depends of course on what his employees are plotting exactly and when they will attempt whatever it is, but he likes to keep his options available.

He leaves the archival assistants for last. When Peter finally makes his way back up to his office, he isn’t surprised when Peter finds it funny how much the archival staff detest him. He neither confirms, nor denies the hand he’s played thus far in Leitner’s and Gertrude’s deaths. The latter was necessary, while the former at this point he thinks of with mild embarrassment, having lost his grip on the situation so quickly.

More importantly, as he assesses Peter’s impression of his new staff, Elias can already see the shape of a plan forming around what he thinks of the person named Martin Blackwood. So as a parting gift, he offers one last piece of advice.

“Oh, and Peter? I feel it only fair to give you fair warning. The Eye doesn’t let go of those it’s fond of so easily. Don’t get too comfortable, I don’t expect to lose.”

Peter smiles at him as if he’s told a particularly humorous joke. And maybe, he has.

**_AUGUST 2017_ **

Elias waits for the ringing to end, wishing it would stop echoing the very same painful ringing in his head. As pointless an endeavor as it was to try and look into the Circus, especially in the midst of their little ritual, he couldn’t help trying to see how Jon was doing. The Eye will want to see something like this regardless, and at least it has an Archivist to do so better than Elias can.

He hadn’t expected Martin of all people to take a stab at expressing how displeased he was about the reality of the Institute at the same time. It was a testament to how out of place the assistant was that his own little burning party wasn’t painful to him in the slightest, but each statement burnt to a crisp felt like a nail digging into Elias’s skull. Even a day later, it still ached.

He taps his finger impatiently on his desk while he’s still left waiting. It would be very accurate of Peter to remain unavailable despite the arrangements they’ve been making the past several months at the very moment he’s expected to take over.

When Peter’s voicemail starts up, Elias isn’t surprised. He is out of time and word will reach the captain one way or another anyway.

Instead, he focuses his attention on the last of his preparations then. His window to escape was shattered by Martin’s and Melanie’s intervention the day prior, but all things considered, staying close was his initial intention all along. Elias is quite skilled at adjusting, and the flash drive comfortably resting in his pocket will ensure his stay at the prison won’t be as unpleasant as those two likely are hoping.

Learning to adapt is one of the things that has let him live this long after all.

So now he waits. Waits for Peter to arrive, waits for Martin and the inspector he sees being greeted at the front desk to make their way here.

And while he waits, he settles his gaze on Jon. Jon, who has been battered the last several months from his adventures now carrying worse wounds that stand out against the white, clinical walls of a hospital. The fact he’s still alive is a testament to it all though. An anomaly, a medical marvel the doctors can’t understand.

It’s a beautiful thing watching a new being like Jon grow, and of the tales and fear he’s accumulated thus far, Elias doesn’t want to take his eyes off it. He wants to be there when Jon makes the decision he’s confident he will choose. To see him fully embrace the mantle of Archivist.

There is no way he can though as the rest of his journey is one Elias cannot intervene with.

He doesn’t know if this tape will ever reach Jon, but it’s not like he needs it. He is far more aware of the horrors of his dreams than Elias can be, but in that same vein, he knows Jon wouldn’t want to discuss it into a recorder either. To admit he’s come to like watching and doesn’t really want to stop.

And when he’s settled into his cell, he’ll have all the time in the world to do some watching of his own.

**_FEBRUARY 2018_ **

So far, Peter’s favorite place in the Institute is no doubt his new office. It’s spacious, lockable, and so very easy to slip in and out of whenever anyone actually tries to find him. For a lot that were so heavily obsessed on knowing, it sure took them a while to catch on to new ideas. Made him wonder really how hands-on Elias ran things. Either way, they were catching on quick, and if they didn’t, well, there were new options made for them. 

He knows there’s still secrets lingering in here though because who would Elias be, if not full of them. It isn’t even with any particular interest he looks, but merely because he has little else to do. In his arrogance, it’s more a matter of rearrangement in the grand scheme of things seeing as he hasn’t really been considering the place Elias’s in quite some time.

The one thing he hasn’t changed, which perhaps he should, is the large, ornate frame on the wall depicting none other than the founder Jonah Magnus. For anyone else standing in this office, it would make sense to have such a frame—it’s not even like his is the only one. Peter stares down the increasingly smaller frames of the various heads seeing the minute differences, but knowing regardless it is the same pair of eyes staring.

Ones that he can tell as he stares are in fact looking back.

“Your Archivist is awake,” Peter says in lieu of a greeting. There’s no response of course, but in a way that’s also preferable. These chats are so much easier to have when the man wasn’t present.

“I’m sure you already _know_ that, but it’s the only reason I can surmise for your looking. Unless you’re that bored. I know prison wasn’t really your first choice of hideaways when all this shot off,” he muses wondering for the briefest moment how Elias must look right now utterly dethroned. His carefully constructed elegance stripped down to a convict’s jumpsuit. It must be humbling, even though he’s aware that jail cell hardly contains him for real if he wished it.

“If you’re looking for an update on how the Institute is doing, I’m happy to share that the staff are adjusting to the new changes I’ve implemented. I think they might even prefer it.” There’s an undertone of glee as Peter shares this fact having grown used to Elias acting so protective of them. Though, if they are approaching the end, a couple of researchers or filing clerks hardly matter compared to the rest of the pieces on the board probably.

At this point, the only ones he’s spared are the ones Martin has made a point to step in and defend, something he likely too would grow out of if things proceeded the way Peter intends.

It isn’t personal, this little bet of theirs.

Elias simply can’t have his plans come to fruition because Peter isn’t interested in either Extinction rising or ending up in a world ruled by those who want to Know him.

Their truce has come to an end. And with a peace he hasn’t felt in a little over twenty years, Peter has full assurance that neither he, nor Elias, care.

**_SEPTEMBER 2018_ **

In their last moments, it’s so easy to finally let go of the illusion that they were ever really on good terms with one another. Martin standing between them, points out the obvious so easily, and all Elias can do is laugh. Peter’s so childish like this. Spitting and whining, claiming it was all Elias when really Martin is just as unpredictable as ever. For all he knew, maybe he’d take Peter up on it.

The only thing he really could count on was Peter’s inability to sell the idea to him, at least on the points that would have mattered most. Trying to isolate Martin would have worked brilliantly if the man wasn’t so keen on making sure his sacrifice would benefit those around him. Honestly, it’s laughable that someone who prided himself on isolation would assume he understood the first thing about reading people.

In the end, Peter couldn’t see past Martin’s disguise. He was a bishop dressed up as a pawn, and so there was never any chance for him to see Martin’s betrayal coming. Though, Elias couldn’t hold it against him too much. He himself had fallen for that seemingly spineless and harmless mask the assistant was so fond of donning. It’s a shame it won’t do him any good now.

Jon will no doubt rush in after him once he gets here, but even Elias is uncertain if either of them will come back out. Well, Jon has shown promise, but Martin… may have already made a choice Jon can’t take back for him.

And Peter, now hiding and sulking, likely has no clue what else is coming. How direly he misjudged. There will be no one to retrieve his bones, if he leaves any, and Elias doesn’t even think he wants them. The captain in his death will give Elias more than he could possibly ever dream of.

“It was fun while it lasted, Peter.” 

He offers one last goodbye to thin air, knowing it won’t be heard from the Lonely, before walking to his true body. It remains to be seen if Jon will make it out of that Forsaken place, but if he does, Elias has a few last arrangements to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to naoya and kay for looking over drafts of this while it was in the works and giving me sweet feedback. thank you everyone who's left a kudo or a comment or a bookmark (even you secret bookmark folks!), i appreciate it very much so!! 
> 
> i have only ever attempted in the past to write two different longfics, one of which is still left unfinished, and the other of which i deleted for a different reason after getting stuck on the epilogue stories i intended for it. as far as longfics go, this is relatively short, but it is a bigger project than i usually take on and i'm very happy to have seen it through. tma has been very helpful in kicking me back into writing and i hope to keep on going for a good while.


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